


Kiss with a Fist

by DottyasaDalmation



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 12:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4305615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DottyasaDalmation/pseuds/DottyasaDalmation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is inspired by the title of the song Kiss with a Fist by Florence and the Machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss with a Fist

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic so I'm a bit nervous about posting this. I love the Musketeers, especially Aramis and d'Artagnan so I thought I would begin with an Aramis-centric story.

A Kiss with a Fist

‘Hey, watch it!’ Porthos growled good-naturedly as Aramis strode through the garrison gates walking straight into him. To an outsider Aramis may have seemed his usual calm, well-dressed self but Porthos immediately saw beyond that.   
‘Sorry Porthos,’ Aramis apologised slapping his friend on the back and relaxing somewhat. ‘Thought I was going to be late.’  
‘You are. I was about to send out a search party. C’mon Treville’s sent for us. He would’ve had you on night duty for a month if he discovered you were late again.’  
‘Who was it this time?’ Athos asked as he approached from behind with d’Artagnan in tow.   
‘Does it always have to be a woman?’ Aramis shot back trying to look hurt.   
‘We know you too well Aramis,’ d’Artagnan said grinning.   
‘It’s none of your business,’ Aramis huffed. ‘But her name’s Lucille,’ he added smiling briefly. His dark eyes softened. ‘She’s …’  
‘Are you going to stand around gossiping like women all morning or are you going to obey my command and come to receive your orders!’ Treville barked from the door of his office.   
‘Coming!’ the four of them chorused slightly guiltily as they hurried to comply. Treville smiled affectionately at his four best soldiers and shook his head. ‘Honestly, it’s like dealing with children sometimes,’ he thought. 

Their orders were to escort the king and his guests on a hunt. A routine task that required the highest levels of concentration due to the thickly forested area that could conceal would-be assassins, along with all the weapons being fired sporadically. Aramis found it taxing to keep thoughts of Lucille to the back of his mind. He would see her that night but it would be the last time for a while as her husband was due back the next day. He mentally shook himself and focussed on the task at hand. He had his reputation as an excellent soldier to maintain and that meant total concentration on the orders given: keep his king safe. 

With their duty done, and the king safely back in the palace, Aramis gave a sigh of relief. They were now free until the next morning and Aramis could only think of Lucille. He excused himself, giving the others his customary advice not to get into too much trouble in the taverns knowing that none of them would pay any heed to it. 

By 8 o’clock he was stripped to his braies kneeling and leaning forwards resting on his forearms looking down on Lucille who was lying on her back under him running her fingers up and down his muscled chest and stomach causing him to shiver with pleasure. Her bed was so soft she sank into the mattress as if lying on snow. Her long dark silky hair framed a perfectly oval face with full red lips and bewitching green eyes. He was content to just let his eyes take in her beauty - for now anyway. She pulled her eyes from his body to look at his handsome face and her bewitching green eyes met his adoring ones. He leant in closer for a kiss when suddenly the front door opened and shut: Lucille’s husband. They both froze. 

Lucille’s bedroom was up one flight of stairs and her window was jammed shut. They had tried to open it the day before to get some air but gave up. The only way out therefore was through the door and footsteps indicated that Jacques was making his way up. There was no way of escaping now without being seen. 

Aramis and Lucille leapt up desperately, both cursing Jacques for arriving home a day earlier than planned. ‘Quick, under the bed,’ she whispered urgently.   
‘No, I’ll be stuck there all night. It would kill me to listen to him with you,’ he hissed back.  
‘If he gets his hands on you, you will be killed.’  
‘I’ll take that chance. Scream and punch me. Pretend I’m an intruder.’  
‘No! I can’t hurt you.’  
‘Do it! It’s the only way to save your reputation and your marriage. I couldn’t forgive myself if I destroyed that. Do it! Now!’  
The footsteps were getting closer. Aramis placed both hands on Lucille’s shoulders and pleaded with his eyes. ‘Do it. Please,’ he begged her.   
She looked around in panic, eyes searching wildly for another escape route. One that didn’t involve hurting her lover. None came to mind. She took a deep breath and briefly closed her eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’ she breathed gently kissing him on the lips before grimacing. She screamed and punched him in the face snapping his head to the right.   
‘Lucille!’ Jacques yelled throwing the door open. 

Aramis had only a second to recover from Lucille’s punch when Jacques’ hand crunched into his cheekbone, spinning him around and causing him to fall to the floor. He tried to get up, to fight back, but Jacques was a big man - strong too - and fuelled by righteous anger. Blow followed blow until he was thrown down the stairs. In a moment of clarity, or self-preservation, and by some miracle Aramis found his feet and ran out the front door with Jacques yelling and cursing at him from the top of the stairs. 

He managed to keep running for a minute or two before his body protested and the pain hit him. He rested in a doorway for a minute thanking God that the streets were unusually quiet for this time of night. Checking that the coast was clear, he kept to the shadows as he stumbled back to his rooms still in just his braies. At least he wasn’t naked. Lucille would have his clothes sent round by morning, at least he didn’t have that to worry about. 

He had other things that were of more immediate concern though. On closing the door to his rooms he sank to the floor, back against the door. He allowed himself a moment to calm down before assessing the damage and cleaning himself up. Everywhere hurt. 

He jumped at a knock on the door then relaxed when he heard Porthos calling his name. Aramis gave an embarrassed groan. He didn’t want his brothers knowing about tonight’s misfortune - he would never hear the end of it - but he also knew Porths wouldn’t just go away. He opened the door.   
‘Thought I seen you,’ Porthos stated. ‘Husband come home early?’ he added when he saw the state of his brother. There was no point in lying. He allowed Porthos to carefully clean the few minor cuts he had acquired from his fall down the stairs and to gently rub salve into the numerous bruises all over his body.   
‘You’ll be black and blue by tomorrow. Why do you do this to yourself? When will you learn to stay away from married women?’ Porthos admonished him.   
‘It’s not the married women that are the problem my friend. It’s the husbands  
who come home early that cause the problems.’ They grinned, both knowing that Aramis would never change his ways and that Porthos would always be there to pick up the pieces afterwards if necessary.


End file.
